


every light is a promise

by smtowndream



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Anastasia (1997), Lost Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smtowndream/pseuds/smtowndream
Summary: Hyuck couldn't control the gasp from escaping his lips as he looked over what exactly Mark was focused on reading:FORMER CONSORT OFFERS MONEY FOR SAFE RETURN OF LOST PRINCE LEE JENO.“What if we get a boy to act as the prince, and take the money the consort is offering? Donghyuck, we’d be living in comfort for the rest of our lives! No more bad reputation, no more ratty jackets or wondering if we’ll have enough food to keep us nourished. You know things about the palace nobody else knows, that gives usleverage.”





	1. We’ll Go from There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’d you get the name Jeno?”
> 
> “When the nurses found me, I had this necklace on,” Jeno undoes the first few buttons of his shirt before reaching in to retrieve a locket around his neck. The necklace must had been through a great ordeal, aging sorely with time. However, that necklace at some point must have been worth quite a deal of money. The metal was rusted, but the quality was apparent even then. “On the back of the locket, it has the name Jeno engraved. The orphanage nurses assumed it was my name and it just.. stuck?”
> 
> “Maybe your parents were fans of the royal family. I’ve never met another Jeno in my entire life,” Mark mused, staring at the wall. “Aside from the prince, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am insatiable with starting things and not finishing. I’ve had this in the works for months, and after seeing the lack of nohyuck fics . I was inspired to get this GOING! essentially, this is a Mark/Hyuck/Jeno centered story, based on a mix of the Anastasia movie from 97, the Broadway play in NYC, and my own author liberty. I hope you all love this as much as I love writing it! I’m so excited to post this, I haven’t had the chance to fully edit, so I’ll do that later/tomorrow!! :D Enjoooy! (Also if this changes things for some readers beforehand: endgame is Nohyuck, but ot3 Marknohyuck is very very relevant)

A tiny pair of wide eyes drifted to the nearby window. The soft beat of the trickling rain was captivating to the young boy, who found the accumulating downfall somewhat alluring. Jeno’s kingdom was lamentably a barren one, where rain was absolutely scarce. To see the rain pouring so bountifully from just outside should have been a foreshadowing of incoming disaster, but to the young prince of Incheon it was a beautiful sight. He could barely keep his eyes off of the display, but his attention was purloined as plump fingers audaciously tugged at the tail of his petticoat.

“Your highness, I can’t finish mending if you continue to move..” came the small voice from the boy who was kneeling on the floor, needle and thread in hand. He was Jeno’s chief gentleman-in-waiting, although at this age Jeno nor the boy could be addressed as a gentleman quite _yet,_ and assisted the prince in all of his needs, whether they be urgent or not. Prince Jeno, a boy with a genuinely sincere heart at such a young age, felt burdensome coming to his tiny boy-in-waiting with requests, and he tried his best to not bother the younger boy. However when Jeno accidentally ripped part of his celebration coat, he had no choice but to humbly come to his young worker, cradling his full coat in his arms as he shyly asked for alterations.

“Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disrupt your work, Donghyuck!” Jeno apologies were always abundant, full of worry and true repentance. The boy, Donghyuck, seemed to find the unnecessary woe on Jeno’s behalf comical.

“You don’t have to apologize, your highness. Just, please stop moving.”

Jeno was embarrassed at this point, and tried his best to stay still. There was a cold silence in the hair, the only sound coming from the needle poking into the material as Donghyuck sowed intently. “It’s the rain, isn’t it? That’s what’s capturing your attention?”

“Yes.. We barely ever get rain and if we were to, it would not ever be in this season. It’s just so odd, but so beautiful. I’ve almost never seen rain before.” Jeno eyes shifted from the window to the boy on the floor, who was too focused on sowing to even look at the young prince. Most times if someone was not giving the royal family their direct attention when they were being spoken to, the outcome was dreadful. While Donghyuck seemed bold enough to accept the consequences of his acts, either way Jeno was not as much as an authoritarian as his family members.

“You’ve never seen rain before? That’s ridiculous,” Donghyuck might not have responded immediately, but he must have been paying attention because he laughed. He was so undeniably bold, that it made Jeno stare once again. However under the watch of the young prince, he visibly stiffened. “My apologies, your highness. It’s just interesting to me that you’ve never seen rain before. Back in my town it rained quite often," He sounds pensive about the past as he too glanced at the spectacle that were the glittering raindrops that sailed from the sky. "There were rarely days that it didn’t rain at all, actually.”

“Moving to Incheon must have been a hard adjustment, I assume? The rainfall is rare here.”

He scoffed. “Moving to Incheon was hard as it was, your highness. The rainfall was the least of my worries.”

Jeno flinched. Most workers were not usually brought to serve in the palace willingly. Donghyuck’s family was one of the cases where service to the royal family was offered in place of payments that were unable to be fulfilled, and the boy’s statement once again reminded him of this. It was either Donghyuck's family served Jeno's own or they would be unfairly put to death as was the law of the land. He did not want to be a king like this, and he duly noted circumstances such as these and promised himself that one day he’d lead justly and help all of those that the past rulers may have hurt. “I’m sorry, Donghyuck. I.." His voice is mousy. "I forgot.”

“It’s quite alright, your highness. Nevertheless, I have finished.” Donghyuck reeled his hand back, tucking his sewing kit back into tucking his sewing kit back into the pocket of his long, unkempt jacket. He rose to his feet hurriedly. “If there are no other duties you have for me, your Highness..?” 

“This was all. Thank you so so much, Donghyuck. This was greatly appreciated. I’ll try to bring you some form of payment in return, just tell me my debt and I will attempt my best to fulfill it.”  
  
Despite Jeno expecting a lighthearted jab, Donghyuck had said nothing more in response. only expediting to the door as if he had wanted nothing more than to flee from the prince’s presence. The boy suddenly halted as he was going to turn the handle and take his leave. With his back turned towards Jeno, meager words slip pass his lips. “Your highness, you’re going to make a great king some day. I hope with all my heart that when that time comes, I’ll still be here to serve you faithfully.”  
  
Jeno was not given time to reply, as Donghyuck exited the drawing room without a second spared. The prince was alone now, with only his thoughts and the sound of the trickling rain to keep him company.

* * *

The setup for the young prince’s 13th birthday celebration was absolutely dazzling. The largest ballroom in the royal Incheon palace had been spruced up for the occasion, extravagance exuding from every corner. There was the chandelier that dangled nonchalantly in the center of the room, beautiful in its shining radiance. The marble floors seemed to be polished to perfection, while tables with blooming flowers were strategically arranged around the room. And of course, there was the grand staircase with plush velvet carpet encasing each step. Those exact steps were where Jeno would make his grand entrance, with all eyes on him.  
  
And eventually, a glorious entrance was what he made. Only an hour or two into the bash, the main attraction finally waltzed through the white French doors to appear at the top of the grand staircase. In that moment, every guest‘s attention was reserved for him only as he began his descent down the staircase. With the deafening applause and gaze of all his admirers, Jeno felt as if he was floating. Everything felt too surreal in that moment, and a happiness he did not think would ever be surpassed coursed through his veins.  
  
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Jeno couldn’t help but notice how thunderous the voices of his guests were. The noise that filled the room was resounding, and as the prince surveyed his crowd he was shocked to see the bewilderment on everyone’s faces. It soon hit him that the noise was not the deafening applause he had received initially, but puzzled screams.

Everything next happened in slow motion.  
  
An ear-piercing boom suddenly shook the ballroom, causing all in attendance to glance around suspiciously. _Was this part of the prince’s entrance, or was this something to be worried about?_ Disoriented looks passed around the crowd quickly, but as nobody moved from their places, the guests shrugged it off as part of the grand introduction. However as a series of bangs went off, it became apparent that something was very much off. Turmoil was now evident as the guests were now anxious, thrashing and pushing around as they headed towards the nearest exits. Those decisions were costly, as bodies were flung back by the chain of explosions that inched nearer and nearer to the epicenter of celebration.  
  
Panic set in when Jeno was unable to find to find his parents amidst all the chaos. As he was pushed around, Jeno felt the air become stifling. People around him knew to head towards the exit to escape, but Jeno stood paralyzed at the foot of the stairs. He wasn’t sure what to do, trained in these protocols but becoming quite nervous during a situation that tested him of all the knowledge he’d learned in his studies. He could not remember any of that, all that his mind was centered on was the whereabouts of his family—  
  
“Your highness! Come on!” shouted Donghyuck, who was tumbling towards him with his arms stretched out. Without any sort of permission, Donghyuck latched onto Jeno’s arm and dragged his motionless body up the stairs and through the doors. The two flew down a hallway unknown to Jeno as explosion after explosion rang out, the palatial walls crumbling around them. He felt tears well up in his eyes as his legs moved faster than they ever had before, somehow keeping up with Donghyuck as the boy tugged him through nooks of the palace that he had never inhabited.

Donghyuck halted at the end of the hallway, where all that was before them was a balcony that overlooked the road that lead to the nearby train tracks. Donghyuck’s movements are hurried as his trembling hands began to unbutton Jeno’s beautifully detailed jacket. Jeno is confused as the boy tugs his jacket off, throwing it somewhere amongst the wrecked hall. “Go, your highness! There’s a train that leaves to Seoul every night and y-you have family there, don’t you? The emperor lives in S-Seoul, doesn’t he?” The words leave his mouth quick. “I-I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not safe for you to stay here! You have to go!” 

Jeno’s stare was incredulous. “Donghyuck! My parents, m-my brothers and sisters, I can’t leave them here like this!” He was sputtering now, entirely out of breath as hot tears spilled down his face. Jeno looks around, as if he’s hoping his family would materialize out of thin air and perhaps everything would be okay. “Did you see my _f-family_? Donghyuck, did you see them?”  
  
There was a intense look of sympathy that was painted across Donghyuck’s face, and that alone made Jeno’s legs buckle beneath him. He had only moments ago watched the ballroom that he had spent his childhood toddling around get blown to pieces, no doubt causing fatalities—could his family be apart of those unfortunate statistics? Jeno felt sick at the mere thought of his family lying motionless on the marble dance floor.

Noticing Jeno’s blank stare, Donghyuck became frantic in his nudging Jeno towards the balcony. Jeno wasn’t moving, and Donghyuck knew that his whole purpose of being beside the prince in times like this was to save him, to protect his country’s crowned royalty. He knew that if Jeno didn’t move now, he would perish along with the likely Donghyuck. The fall was not nearly as bad as one would assume, and Jeno would surely live if he decided to jump and flee to safety.

Something in his eyes portrayed that he didn’t want to. He wanted to know if his family was okay, were his citizens okay? Would Donghyuck be okay? He didn’t want to live if everything he’d known all his life would be gone in the blink of an eye.

The closest of all the explosions went off, hitting right besides Donghyuck. In an act of hysteria, the shock of the detonation caused Donghyuck’s instincts to kick in and shove Jeno towards the edge of the balcony. It did not set in at once, but a shocked expression appeared on Jeno’s face even he reached out for Donghyuck as he fell; but there was no way for anyone to save Jeno now, he had to save himself. As the crowned prince spiraled towards the rain soaked ground, a raging fire had suddenly ignited where he and Donghyuck had once stood. Jeno let out a desperate cry as his palace rose in flames, rendering him unable to move as blood trickled down the side of his face from the fall.  
  
He was sobbing at the destruction, and wasn’t sure how he got the courage to push himself off the cobblestone pavement to run towards the train station. Maybe he’d make it to the tracks and find out that his family was okay. Maybe everyone had escaped and nothing had perished except the palace. His home was able to be rebuilt, and in his hazy thoughts all Jeno cared about was his family, his citizens, and Donghyuck.  
  
Donghyuck’s frenzied face was etched in his mind as Jeno ran, the boy’s wide brown eyes full of fear as he shoved his prince towards freedom. Jeno’s sobs became increasingly louder, only finding their end once his body dropped to the side of the road. Jeno was not sure how far he had ran, or where exactly he was aside from a deserted road surrounded by trees.

The last thing he remembers was the sound of the rain hitting the pavement, and the indistinguishable wetness lingering on his face—was it the rain, or his tears? He’d never have the time to distinguish which, because soon the prince drifted to unconsciousness.

* * *

“So, we ran out of bread. What’s our plan now?”

The lights were turned down low as two figures were hunched around a weary, broken down wooden table. Glances were exchanged as if they were words, no words passing between the two boys.

“Mark, _you’re_ the older one here. How do you expect me to have a plan?” Donghyuck found himself whining, kicking a layer of dirt that sheened under the projection of a murky lamp light. 

Mark seems to quietly ponder amongst himself, with there being no real substance to Donghyuck’s words. There wasn’t anything to consider, aside from the fact that the two were now utterly _broke_ and coincidentally just ran low on their already futile food supply. “We could get another job?”

“ _You_ could get another job," Donghyuck wags his index finger in Mark's direction. "After the bread fiasco, nobody will even think twice before denying my job application. It’s like that story brought me a bad rep! It spread like wildfire, I can’t get hired anywhere.” That was Donghyuck’s fault, genuinely. He’d gotten blessed by the lucky stars with a good paying job as a busboy at an upscale restaurant. He scrubbed dishes until the stubs of his fingers bled and tiles cut his knees as he vigorously shined the floors. A fatal mistake was Donghyuck thinking it’d be fine to swipe a day old bag of bread that was on the way to the garbage.

With all the cruel treatment Donghyuck had been put through, still the manager seemed to be solely focused on how unacceptable it was that he had taken the bread. Even if he had been incredibly loyal in his work—even if the loaves were stale and would be considered not at all edible to the high flying aristocrats they served. He lost his job within the blink in eye and was even quicker put on a no hire list. Hence, the duo of Mark Lee and Lee Donghyuck were left to fend with whatever money Mark solely could bring in and the food Donghyuck could smuggle. It had worked for a while, but now with only a few cups of rice and three loaves of bread they weren’t sure how they’d sustain themselves.

“We’re going to starve, Mark. Face it,” While Donghyuck was only partly joking, starvation and death were ultimately some potential realities for the two boys with living in the poverty stricken streets. A few days without food or water causes detrimental damage, and without anyone to care for their weakening bodies.. “There has to be something we could do for money! We’re young, strong, and capable—” Mark shoots him a look, Donghyuck caves. “Fine, _you’re_ strong and capable, but _I’m_ young, handsome, and a trickster.”

“I don’t really think being a swindler is considered a great personality trait, Hyuckie,” Despite the bleak situation, Mark finds a way to let a genuine laugh pass his lips. He pours both he and Donghyuck a glass of water, using only a sparing amount. “Let’s drink this then go out and see if we can land any sort of work. You could put on a cap, maybe they’ll forget your face.”

“Forget _my_ face? Impossible!” Donghyuck downs his glass of water too quickly, savoring the way the ice cold water soothes his dry throat. He wearily eyes the water basin, wondering if it'd be selfish of him to have just a little bit more. With a sigh he decides against it, knowing how selfish it would be of him to enjoy the only water they had left. He’d rather become a withered, dehydrated mess without his best friend than thrive without him.

Mark lets that go unanswered, only grinning as he grabs both his jacket and Donghyuck’s, handing it directly to the boy’s ready hands. They shrug on their worn down woolen jackets along with their hats with obvious holes in the fabric. What else were they to do when barely had money for food, let alone new clothes. They had to make do with what they had.

And what they had did a poor job in protecting their bodies. The crisp wind whipped against their exposed flesh, nipping bitterly at their noses.

“Ah, now I remember why I don’t go out in the cold.” remarks Donghyuck, rubbing his bare hands together to create any sort of heat to warm them. It was done in vain.

“Like we go out much at all nowadays.”

A laugh. “Touché.”

Oddly enough the boulevard they frequented often was bustling at this hour. Bundled people filled the streets, and the two passed more boisterous vendors attempting to get at least one sale for the day than they could count. Some yelled sob stories regarding their families, others offering to drop prices to essentially nothing if _anyone_ was willing to purchase from them. Old and young women crowded in huddles, whispering the week’s gossip in hushed, esoteric words. Generally, Donghyuck tended to tune the hubbub of the market out. With little to live for, was there a reason to be entertained?

“At this here booth, this vendor is selling an antique! A music box containing a bracelet from the royal family!” The vendor screeched over the daily sounds, shaking a tiny golden box carefully over his head. His insistent wriggling and yelling eventually managed to draw a crowd, and after hearing the topic Donghyuck too was sucked into the vendor’s performance. “This here box is a priceless heirloom! Discovered in the rubble after the great Incheon palace fire. It’s believed to have belonged to our precious deceased prince, Lee Jeno.”

The name brought a chill that violently shook Donghyuck’s spine. He had not heard the name Lee Jeno, nor any mention of the palace fire, in ages. Only 6 years or so had passed since the very night his life had changed for the worse.

He remembers the blinding crystal chandelier under which the beautifully set up soirée was held, filled with high delegates and their charming sons and daughters. He can perfectly recall just how the room had gone perfectly still when the crowned prince emerged at the top of the staircase, looking undoubtedly regal in the outfit Donghyuck himself had stitched together. The velveteen blue suit fit the already tall and handsome boy perfectly, and the azure fabric matched the sapphire jewels that adorned the silver crown on his head. Even at a young age, Lee Jeno was poised to become the next king—and he would have done a fantastic job. Then, Donghyuck had always dreamt that him being loyal enough to the crown might just have made Jeno allow him to continue to work in the palace. Sure, they were silly conjurings from his imagination, but dreams were important to kids like him. And being the right hand man to the future king of the country would not have been such a bad job for a boy uprooted from poverty.

But that’s all they would ever end up being—silly, fabricated dreams. Donghyuck would never get to continuing working alongside the royal family, because after that night the Lee line had ceased to exist. The fire set during the prince’s birthday had been planned by a leftist group that all along wanted to wipe out every last royal member in Incheon. And that night, they accomplished what they wanted by killing hundreds of people that night: delegates like Mark’s father, foreign princes and princesses, servants like Donghyuck’s parents, and every member of the royal family—even Lee Jeno, the front runner for the country’s next leader.

Or they had thought.

The leftists had claimed to have wiped out the entire royal line, despite Jeno’s body never being found. They’d made some absurd story that they’d taken the prince aside himself and ended him away from the main catastrophe. However while the pubic could have been swindled, Donghyuck had always had an inkling that the excuse wasn’t true at all. He knew the truth, and he was arguably the last person to ever see the prince.

After the chaos started, he brought Jeno to the stairs and away from the scene, stripping Jeno of his embroidered jacket to make him less noticeable. With tears pricking both of their eyes, Donghyuck pushed Jeno off the only palace balcony that faced the road. He faintly remembers begging Jeno to flee to Seoul for a better chance of survival. Before the fire had reached Donghyuck, he captured the sight of a hobbled Jeno heading towards the deserted tracks. Sure, the leftists could have gotten him then but that theory never sat right with Donghyuck. He always hoped that it was false and that Jeno wasn’t dead; he claimed it was because some part of him wanted the notoriety that would come with being the crown prince’s savior, but deep inside it was because Jeno being alive would be the only thing from his past that had survived that drastic night aside from himself.

“How much for the box?” yelled one woman from the dead center of the crowd, digging in her satchel for any coin she could spare.

“I’ll give you three coins and a loaf of bread for the box.” bartered another, waving a full bag of stale bread towards the vendor with vigor. The vendor's eyes switch from the puffed loafs to the coins, and back. He seemed especially likely to give the box to that bidder with the bread _and coin_ if he did not receive a more enticing offer. 

Donghyuck feels an odd feeling rise up in him then. An unjustly one that lead him to believe he was the only one in this crowd worthy of claiming that box. Aside from being the nation’s prince, Jeno was one of his closest friends, even if they couldn’t ever label their relationship as anything but professional. Jeno had needed that extra nudge, that opinion from someone that wasn’t of royal lineage, and Donghyuck had been the reliable young boy to give him the advice when needed. Jeno had been kind to him when the world turned against him, degrading him as nothing but a servant to the king—but Jeno had seen past all that, and still wanted to befriend the boy with the sharp tongue and tattered clothes. _He deserves that box_ , he decides. Thumbing the handful of coins in his jacket pocket, he made his way to the front.

He stands before the vendor, removing his cap to place it over his heart sincerely. “Sir.. Please let me buy this box from you. It would mean the world to my poor, sick brother over there,” He gestures grandly towards an otherwise absentminded Mark, who seemed sleepy as he stared off into space. “Please. This is all I have, but if it’s not enough, I can come back with more payments every week.” ( _He'd never come back with any additional payments_ , _that much was a lie_ ) Without receiving a response, Donghyuck hands the man all the coins he had in his pocket. More than anything offered for the box previously, but enough to have bought at most a bag of loaves or a few cups of rice. Mark is going to _kill_ him.

Despite the rustling from the crowd, the vendor sorely hands the box over to Donghyuck. He shrugs. “I never wanted to part from this, but I need the money as well. I’ve never been able to open it, but I’ve been told it has Prince Jeno’s favorite bracelet inside. The engraving LJN, so I know it must’ve belonged to our beloved prince. Guard it well.”

Donghyuck nods vigorously, holding the precious box to his chest tightly. As he makes his way back to Mark, he hears whispers that one person heard from another person that information had been passed from someone else that the prince was not actually dead, but had been abducted to a different country. Absurd claims like that made Hyuck laugh.

“I know you’re going to kill me,” Donghyuck already begins to defend his hasty decision, holding the box just under his jacket in case Mark decides to get angry. He keeps himself at arm’s length. “But that vendor was selling a box of Jeno’s. It probably is not real, but if it is.. It’s something from my past—our past, really. I hope you’re not too mad.”

“Mad? Hardly!” And he's laughing and not quite looking at Donghyuck. Rather, Mark's gaze is almost transfixed at the paper he held in his clammy hands. “Hyuck, I have an idea. Look at this.”

His vision blurred due to the chilly wind, Donghyuck wipes his eyes before leaning over to read the headline. The article was important enough to be front page news, and Hyuck couldn't control the gasp from escaping his lips as he looked over what exactly Mark was focused on reading: **FORMER CONSORT OFFERS MONEY FOR SAFE RETURN OF LOST PRINCE LEE JENO.**

Mark’s next words were hushed, and he spoke with inspiration. “What if we get a boy to act as the prince, and take the money the consort is offering? Donghyuck, we’d be living in comfort for the rest of our lives! No more bad reputation, no more ratty jackets or wondering if we’ll have enough food to keep us nourished. You know things about the palace nobody else knows, that gives us _leverage_.” And while Mark’s idea is pure insanity, it was not original. “This could work. Hyuck we’d be set for life! We’d mean something in the world again, we wouldn't be street nobodies.” There is an almost sad look in his eyes, as if envisioning continuing to live day to day just like this would devastate him. His brief visions of grandeur had rendered him unable to think of residing in their poor unheated apartment with no food any longer. His voice drops lower. “What do we have to lose?”

There was a deafening pause on Donghyuck’s end. The two did have absolutely nothing to lose. They could take this gamble, be wrong, and there would be no real consequences on their end. Dozens over the years have claimed to be the missing prince Lee Jeno, but the distant royal family always found some flaw with the boy being presented. Too short, too many gaps in his teeth, pronunciation just off, not being able to recall the names of Jeno’s beloved cat trio. What the impostors did not have though was an insider; someone who’d been with the royal family enough to know bits and details that the general public did not. Luckily, Donghyuck did remember just enough to maybe pass the right too willing boy as the Prince Jeno.

Now it was all up to his morals.

Knowing that the real Jeno may be out there desperately longing for his family, would Donghyuck be able to lie to those who still cared for Jeno and wanted his well being confirmed? All that just for a large sum of money and some fame? It was Donghyuck's sole decision then, to either keep still to the memory of his friend from childhood and stay in poverty or fib for the chance to give both he and Mark a better life. 

It wasn't the most complex decision he's had to make. 

“Let’s do it.”

Mark and Donghyuck shake on it, and the con was set into motion later that night. They hand wrote fliers describing what they were trying to accomplish in so few words—they could not be too descriptive, scheming to publicly manipulate the royal family would be illegal—and passed them to some boys who’d know how to get them around. They set the audition date for a week from when the plan was conceived, hoping that at least one or two suitable boys would appear. Every day leading up to the interviews, Donghyuck prayed to ease his nerves. 

The auditions came late on a Saturday, letting the prospective candidates in at the cusp of day breaking into night. There was a formidable amount of boys, enough for Donghyuck to make a good judgement of who had the most likeness to the boy he used to know. The process was simple enough: Mark would give every boy the same sentence to recite before them, proceeded by answering a few simple questions that the general public should know.

But boy after boy did not _feel_ right to him. In that moment, Donghyuck understood how the distant relatives of Jeno felt when all these impostors came to them, claiming to be part of their family—sometimes, even the tiniest tick threw it off. Perhaps they wouldn’t make eye contact, or they’d fumble over a simple question. Mark began to inch closer and closer to peak frustration as Donghyuck rejects every suitable boy that had come to them.

After asking some boys to read twice, they eventually asked everyone to leave. With a disappointed look on their faces, Mark and Donghyuck swear to get back to the boys who might make a good fit. It might’ve been the way Donghyuck said it, but he didn’t seem to convince any of the boys that he’d ever call back.

“Hyuck, you needed to choose someone.” Mark complains once everyone filed out. He throws his paper on the floor as the anger crept out. “How are we supposed to do this without someone to pretend for us? Unless _you’d_ like to act as the prince!”

Donghyuck narrows his eyes, pushing himself up from his chair. “Hey, I agreed to do this, but I didn’t know it’d be so hard. You only saw him a few times in person, but I _knew_ him. So forgive me if I’m finding it hard now to find a replacement for my dead friend!”

Mark ignores him. He is pacing, mumbling possible solutions to this problem. They could call the few of the more convincing boys back and spend a few weeks grooming them to be the perfect clone. There wasn’t one that stood out directly, but perhaps with some coaching they’d be able to fix that. On the chalkboard in the middle of the room, Mark takes initiative to write down the names of some potential boys. While Mark busies himself with that, Donghyuck reaches over to pour himself a glass of water. He doesn’t get to drink it though, because a sound coming from the doorway distracted him.

“Hello?” called the voice. Footsteps soon were added and soon enough a head tentatively poked into the room. Both Mark and Donghyuck face the stranger, who was covered in part by the darkness outside but also by the hat that hung just over his eyes. As he steps further into their view it’s noticeable that due to his lack of additional outerwear the boy was practically shivering. His cheeks were flushed cherry red from the immense cold of the night. Despite this, he bows to greet them. “I’m here for the audition? I’m sorry I was late, it was _really_ cold. And I couldn’t get here on time because of—”

“—I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ll be looking any more.” informs Donghyuck, pinching the bridge of his nose in what appears to be irritation. “I’m not really in the mood to hear yet another teenage boy try to tell me he’s Lee Jeno.”

“Donghyuck, you have said no to pretty much every single boy we’ve seen today. It’s not going to hurt to see one more boy today. But first,” Mark objects to another of Donghyuck’s rejections, taking it upon himself to pull up a chair for the stranger—he even snatches Hyuck’s untouched glass of water and passes it to him. “Sit down, please. It’s very cold outside, I’m sure you’d like some water and time to recoup?”

( _Donghyuck tsks aloud_. _Typical Mark, b_ _eing incredibly kind to someone he finds attractive right off the bat._ _Donghyuck is appalled! How could he even see if this boy was cute or not with his ridiculous hat covering his face_!)

Wearily, the stranger accepts both the chair and water offered to him. As soon as he’s seated comfortably, he removes the torn up hat and stuffs his hands into the opening of the material. The first proper time he looks up, he makes eye contact with Donghyuck almost immediately. In that moment it takes every fiber in Hyuck to not gasp audibly.

This stranger was one of the most handsome boys he’d ever seen in his entire life. Working in the palace meant getting the chance to sample different cultures, and serving there had led Hyuck to meet princes from dozens of different countries. Coincidentally, working on the street to bring a coin or two home sold a similar experience, as he grew accustomed to the different faces he’d see on a day to day basis. None of the boys he’d ever seen could compare to this one.

He had these oddly strong features that would usually look misplaced on some boys their age, but worked in his favor. His prominent jawline and beautifully shaped nose only added to the handsomeness, not at all hindering it. The faint cherry tint that hung just on the apples of his cheeks paired with the glowing smile on his lips caused Donghyuck’s stomach to be invaded by butterflies.

This is _ridiculous_! Donghyuck didn’t _ever_ feel like this, especially towards complete strangers. He’d never understood love at first sight before, but perhaps he had a better idea of what it was like now.

“What’s your name?” Mark asked the stranger, taking a seat on a three legged stool within reach. He too seems intrigued by this handsome boy who so casually waltzed into their humble abode. For once, just this time, Donghyuck wouldn’t make fun of him. He was as intrigued as Mark was, except _he_ was better at keeping his emotions under wraps. While Mark would get fidgety and release the occasional giggle, Donghyuck would quietly survey.

“Jeno.” The reply was simple and sweet, the boy’s lower register easy to the ears as his looks were to the eyes. Donghyuck found it laughable that the boy was already trying to convince them that he was the perfect fit. He _just_ arrived, didn’t he know they needed to see if he fit the perfect prince protocol. It was essentially a questionnaire full of basic things Mark and Donghyuck needed to know such as age, full name ( _not ‘Lee Jeno’_ , _for the record_ ), and family background.

Donghyuck could not contain the laughter this time and it spills from his lips. “Okay, hotshot. You can take a minute or two before you go into telling us you’re Lee Jeno. What’s your real name?” However even after, the stranger maintained that his name was Jeno. This only made Donghyuck more suspicious. “So you're telling me that our real name is Jeno?”

“Well.. I think so?” The boy seems so unsure of a question so entirely simple, and Donghyuck sighs perhaps a little rudely as the boy gives a summary of his life story. “See, I’m an orphan. I’ve lived at an orphanage for the past 5 or 6 years, since I was 13. I had been working every day to save enough money to leave.”

Both Mark and Donghyuck survey Jeno’s outfit: in addition to his tatted hat, his pants and shirt had a substantial amount of holes, and the leather soles of his shoes were visibly breaking. He didn’t even have a jacket, and snow season was approaching quickly. This boy was in worse condition than they, which was heartbreaking to say the least.

“You’ve been at an orphanage since you were 13, but that means you were with your family before, no?” Mark asks, and when Jeno nods he continues. “So how come don’t you know your name?”

“I was found abandoned in the rain on the side of the road a few years ago. I was a boy with no name and apparently with no memories either. I had a traumatic head injury that gave me amnesia. It’s been years, and I still can’t remember my childhood totally. Some things are fuzzy, but one of the only things I can vaguely remember is that my name is Jeno. They said my memory might come back, but it’s been years, so..” The boy is quiet, fiddling with his hands nervously. “That’s all.”

“Not saying I don’t believe you, but do you have any proof that that’s your name? Do you have anything at all that could solidify that?”

“Well, when the nurses found me, I had this necklace on,” Jeno undoes the first few buttons of his shirt before reaching in to retrieve a locket around his neck. The necklace must had been through a great ordeal as it had aged sorely with time. However, that necklace at some point must have been worth quite a deal of money. The metal was rusted but the quality was apparent even then. “On the back of the locket, it has the name Jeno engraved. I am not sure why else I’d have it if it wasn’t my name.”

“Maybe your parents were fans of the royal family. I’ve never met a Jeno in my entire life,” Mark mused. “Aside from the prince, of course.”

“You met the prince?” Jeno gasps, utterly surprised at the thought that there had been someone in the world that had met _the Lee Jeno_. At this point, Lee Jeno was almost a myth rather than a person who’d actually existed. He’d be the forever passed on story of the handsome boy who tragically perished on his birthday. “That’s amazing! What was he like?”

Mark is blushing, bashfully at how Jeno seemed so enthused by his experience. Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “I’m not the best person to ask. Our meetings were cordial since my father was a high delegate so I’d see Jeno from time to time. But unfortunately not enough to know him well.” He strolls over to Donghyuck, slinging an arm across his shoulder. “This boy here though? He worked with Jeno every single day as his right hand _man._ Well— _boy._ ”

“That was a long time ago,” Donghyuck confessed, avoiding Jeno’s engaging gaze. This seemed to have aroused the boy’s interest, and Jeno was probably assuming that Donghyuck would launch into recounting enchanting tales of living in the magnificent palace and working alongside the prince. He had no desire to though, realizing long ago that he no longer wanted to share the special stories of his childhood. It was his past, when life was not nearly as bad as it was now. He didn’t have to divulge it for anyone—not even the striking stranger with the sparkling eyes. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s dead, my family’s dead, his family’s dead. Why talk about all the good times when I’m the only one to have survived!” A dismal mood threaten to loom over the three boys if the subject didn’t change quickly. _Good job,_ Donghyuck’s mind scolds, _talking about death in a time like this._ “So, you want to impersonate the royal prince?”

Jeno frowns. “When you put it like that, it sounds so..”

“..Selfish? Heinous? Lousy?” Donghyuck ticks every adjective off his fingers, sounding dangerously bitter. “Did you think pretending to be a prince to his dead family is saint’s work? If you’re here thinking you’re doing society a favor, or that you’re doing a good deed, this isn't the right line of work for you. Mark and I are doing this only to get just enough to live out the rest of our lives in something that isn’t this drabby apartment. On the other hand, if this works for you, you’d be living is luxury for the rest of your days. This works for all three of us if we execute this well.”

Jeno’s voice is firm, as was his unwavering gaze. “I’m not doing it for the money.”

Donghyuck’s incredulous. He couldn’t name a boy their age who wasn’t going after money, especially in the times they lived in. Money was hard to come by for an uneducated teenage boy from the streets, but they’d do just about anything for a coin. However here this boy is, prancing into Mark and Donghyuck’s apartment and attempting to convince them that he didn’t want to fake being the prince for the money or the prestige. It was a lie, and Donghyuck knew it. He folds his arms. “Why else would you want to do this, then?”

“They’re missing someone in their family, and I’m.. I’m missing my family as a whole. I know I’m not Jeno but if I can convince at least someone that I belong, maybe I can fill their void. I don’t want money, or luxury; I’ve never wanted any of that. All I’ve wanted is to be somewhere where I was wanted and where I _belonged_. Isn’t it better that I fake being the prince for good reasons, rather than an impersonator who only cares for the money?” Jeno’s voice cracks, a sign that tears would soon follow. The boy wipes at his eyes furiously with the back of his right hand, laughing apprehensively. “I know that probably sounds silly. I’m sorry for crying.”

Donghyuck feels emotionless as he watches Jeno cry from the distance, the tears cascading down his fair cheeks shimmering like diamonds. He absolutely hated sob stories. His whole life had been one chapter after another of anguish, and frankly he didn’t like to bring his own mood down by hearing others talk about how their lives had been just bad as his own. Misery likes company, but that was not true in his case; he’d rather be alone than mourning with others. It might’ve been a lack of empathy, but Donghyuck thinks that being forced to leave home at a young age to work for people that would be eventually learn to love just before they died hardened him.

But even after Jeno apologized for crying, the sobs become just the tiniest bit louder and for the first time in a while Donghyuck feels his heart strings _tug,_ _tug_ , _tug_. It’s an out of body experience and he felt limp as he watched Mark rush over to comfort the distraught boy and wipe away the glittering tears before they dropped to the floor. He presses his index finger to his temple as he felt an onset of lightheadedness descend onto him, because watching Jeno cry just reminds him so much of the disaster 6 years ago. When he’d had to haul the stumbling prince up the stairs, the boy so adamant to not move if his family wasn’t okay despite the detonations ringing out from around him.

This Jeno looked so much like the prince then, the headstrong yet cutely timid young royal who adored his family and his people with his entire beating heart. The prince who only wanted to do good for the world, even if the world was not always kind to him.

“I hate when people cry.” After not speaking since the tears began to flow, his voice sounded feeble and far away. Donghyuck is standing awkwardly straight now, trying to avoid the ensuing headache. “I hate it.”

At those words, Jeno rises too quickly. Suddenly he is bowing in apology, his large hands covering his face in absolute embarrassment. He probably felt so distressed, coming to the audition late and causing such a melancholy scene. “I’m so sorry for wasting your time. I’m going to go,” He wastes no time in handing Mark his glass of water—still half full—and blitzing towards the door. “I hope this goes well for you. I’m sorry I can’t be your prince—”

“—Jeno, come back.” Donghyuck calls out for him wearily, his words breathed out in a sigh. At the sound of his name, the boy shuffles back nervously. He did not seem to think he’d be asked to not leave, so with a shocked look on his face he cautiously walks back towards the two. Donghyuck does not directly look at him but swallows his pride nevertheless. “I want you to do this. If you want to do this, you can. We’ll coach you to be.. The best Lee Jeno impersonator ever.” 

The tears well up in Jeno’s eyes, but he viciously fights against the urge to cry once again. “Really? R-Really? You’ll help me?” His face is full of wonder, of a pure and unexplained happiness that a person only sees a few times over the grand course of life. It actually makes Donghyuck smile. “Thank you both, thank you! Thank you!”

Mark offers the water back to Jeno. “If it helps, you already kind of look like the prince? Or at least I think so? A more grown up, even more handsome version of Jeno? What do you think, Hyuck?”

Hyuck sizes Jeno up, taking into consideration every single feature. The curve of his jaw, his dangerously long limbs, the way his eyes curl into the perfect crescent moon when he smiles, his raven hair. Jeno’s smile, specifically, is what reminds of the prince the most. If Donghyuck didn’t know better, he’d declare that Jeno was the deceased crowned prince himself. Or at least, a scarily similar version of him. Despite the fact that Hyuck thinks that Jeno could be the spitting image of the prince, he shrugs. “Yeah, I mean I guess they look alike.” _Or he’s an exact clone._

Mark claps his hands together, nodding vigorously at the way the situation was tying together before his eyes. “Well! That’s all we need. If he’s awkward at speaking we can blame it on the head injury. He could be most odd boy, but as long as he looks like our Lee Jeno, I think we have a case.”

In defense, Jeno mumbles something under his breath—but Donghyuck nor Mark can hear him. The oldest of the three goes off on a tangent, making a direct beeline for the chalkboard and scrawling notes on the board already.

Donghyuck glances at the window wistfully before Mark beckons both he and Jeno to look at what’s he written. Jeno scurried over, but Donghyuck takes his time. He so desperately wanted for this scheme to work, and not just for himself, but for Mark and maybe for Jeno too. Life had been unkind to them, but maybe this would be their way out of the streets and settled into a better set of circumstances.

At least.. he _hoped_ so.

For everyone’s sake.

“This operation,” Mark starts with a bellowing voice, raising his arms in the air. “Will commence tomorrow! 24 hours until the biggest plot of our lives begins!"


	2. Learn to Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jeno, have you ever heard the saying that the present is the key to the future?” The boy shakes his head no, but a flare of remembrance burns lowly in his eyes—both he and Donghyuck don’t address it. Hyuck should not have expected Jeno to know, he himself only learned it per the teachings of the palace. “Well—it doesn’t matter, really. Basically, it means that to get to the glorious future you have to focus on improving your own current situation. With a project with as much planning as this will take, it’s better to start now rather than later.” 
> 
> Jeno nods slowly, first in acceptance then in understanding. “Well where do we start?” He fiddles with his fingers. “How do I become.. a person that I never was?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE.. my apologies to anyone who might have been waiting for an update. this is incredibly overdue, plus I DID take the time to revise the first chapter! the first chapter was written so crazily, thank you for anyone who actually read it and did like the story!!! I will try to update soon. please let me know your thoughts, I really only decided to begin and finish this second chapter after getting two comments that spurred me on!! :D without further ado, pleaaase read on!

“Absolutely not,” Donghyuck was adamant, his arms primly crossed over his chest as he dug his heels into the creaky floorboards. He was glaring at the older boy defiantly, almost as if his hardened gaze would change Mark’s proposal. (It did not, but Donghyuck liked to pretend he saw a minuscule shift in Mark’s unwavering eyes, or his lip twitch slightly in consideration). “First, you offer him my bed, and now you want me to stay with him all day?”

This time, Mark squinted at Donghyuck before glancing nervously towards the boy far behind him. “Can you be more quiet? I don’t want him to hear you say stuff like that.” Mark hushed, obviously sounding irritated with Donghyuck’s lack of consideration. He continues to place items into his worn down leather tote, and his voice returns to a more normal and steady tone. “Besides, offering him your bed was the most diplomatic thing of me to do.”

“You are not a diplomat anymore, Mark! Actually, you weren’t one to begin with, you were the son of one.” Donghyuck folds his arms. “Coincidentally, you’re now a part time thief, so I’m not sure if you’re in any place to brag about diplomatic acts of kindness.”

Mark seems offended. “First, _you’re_ a thief. I prefer the term _con-man_ , if you will. And what can I say,” He offers a lovelorn look at the ever so handsome Jeno, who seemed oblivious to the conversation occurring just across the room. “I guess the diplomatic blood still courses through my veins.”

“You’d never do this much for me! This is all because you find him cute,” The younger scoffs. Mark shrugs but does not deny it, which frustrates only Donghyuck even more. “Either way, I am not staying with him all day by myself! Mark, we barely know him, what if he’s a murderer?”

“I’m not a murderer.” Neither of them expected for Jeno to speak up at all, so when he did both boys were surprised. Jeno stalks toward them and Donghyuck realizes then how badly he wishes he was even somewhat intimidated by Jeno. Even if on the surface Jeno was in the same boat as Donghyuck and Mark, something about the way he held himself—from the way he walked to the way his figure was so incredibly lean and perfectly proportioned—made it clear that there was something special about him.

He should feel threatened by the entrance of Jeno into his life, however, something about the boy felt too familiar. While Donghyuck does not hate him, he also does not harbor any fond feelings towards Jeno—no matter how much Hyuck’s heart ached to glance at him, the boy was a stranger.

“I can leave if my presence makes you uncomfortable, Donghyuck? I don’t want to impose, you and Mark are already helping me so much and I’m very grateful. I can go and come back?”

Mark flashed a hot glare as he narrowed his eyes at Donghyuck in intense judgement. The resentment that filled his eyes is quickly dropped as the eldest turns to Jeno with a sickly sweet smile, one that would make Donghyuck cringe on most occasions. “No, we wouldn’t ask you to leave!” insists Mark with gritted teeth, inching threateningly closer to his best friend. “Donghyuck here was just joking, ha-ha!” A harsh elbow to the side. “Weren’t you?”

Donghyuck shuffled his feet, grumbling a forced apology under his breath. Mark seems to find the involuntary words enough to satisfy him and he reaches for his tattered coat that hung just over the wooden chair. “Donghyuck, be nice to Jeno while I’m gone. It wouldn’t hurt us if you could teach him a thing or two about the prince—you did know him better than I did, after all!”  
Mark shrugs on the outerwear, pulling a hat over his sable blackness of his hair. “I’ll be back a little later. I’m going to see if I can get us anything to eat for dinner while I’m out. Wish me luck!”

Jeno offers the elder some kind words of encouragement while Donghyuck slumps lethargically against a chair. He lazily waves to Mark but the boy does not see as his back was turned, focused on trooping out the door and into the frigid conditions. Suddenly, the room is overcome by an irregular silence that makes Donghyuck writhe. What makes him even more uncomfortable is how Jeno’s stare was so incredibly blatant. Donghyuck was not even facing the boy’s direction yet could feel Jeno’s lingering eyes searing into his skull.

“I know you want to ask me something,” It’s unsurprising that Donghyuck is the one to break the tranquility. After all, rupturing serenity was Donghyuck’s specialty; a God-given gift, as some might describe. “What is it?” His tone is a little more harsh than expected, and he is immediately a bit regretful as he turns towards Jeno.

The boy obviously feels timid around him, a dead giveaway as Jeno’s eyes bounce across the room chaotically. With his hands balled up in his gashed sweater, he appears as close to a portrait of the real Jeno that Donghyuck used to know so well—the young diffident prince who had only begun to cultivate his image. “Well, I was just wondering.. How did it feel to know the prince? What was he like?”

He’d often get questions like this whenever his palace job had been casually brought up—from job interviews to excitedly charges exchanges between strangers he’d befriended on the street. Initially, Donghyuck was selfish and had not wanted to disclose his experiences with Jeno with the world. Jeno was his best friend who he’d been lucky enough to serve for the time he had. He did not want others to peek in on his personal memories.

After a while, Jeno had been gone so long that the sting began to wear off. People were intrigued by Donghyuck’s stories of the gentle prince, and he realized he would only gain by sharing them—so he did.

“Well, he was incredibly handsome, for one. We were young then, but everyone had always whispered about how Jeno would grow to be one of the most handsome princes the country had ever known. And he was the type to be kind even if his deeds were to go unnoticed. Once, he gave all the workers in the kitchen the day of Christmas off without telling his parents.”Hyuck remembers the day so vividly, it was the last Christmas before the accident. He recalls the light in Jeno’s eyes as he watched Donghyuck teeter off the palace grounds with his parents—it was the first holiday they had gotten off in years. “They were so angry at him for doing something so irresponsible without telling them, but.. He had only really done it to help.”

Donghyuck blinks back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He never cried over the accident anymore, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t. Yet here he was, recounting a simple story to a total stranger and somehow aged feelings tugged sorely at his heart.

“Are you okay, Donghyuck?” Jeno prodded softly, his voice as gentle as his gaze. The boy hesitantly prods towards him, offering Hyuck the glass of water Mark had initially passed to him. “I’m sorry if this made you sad, I didn’t mean to. I just thought it’d be better to know little things about Jeno—”

“—It’s fine.” He uses the palm of his hand to wipe fervently at the sides of his eyes. He feels no tears, but he sniffles nevertheless. “You’re right, I’m sorry. The crying is unnecessary, I don’t usually get sad like this. It won’t happen again.”

Jeno’s shoulders settle, and his demeanor softens. He sits across from Donghyuck, as if they’d been friends for years. “You can get sad, it’s a human feeling. I’d be upset if such an unfortunate circumstance happened to me too.” He muses, and Donghyuck fights the incredible urge to snort. “You don’t have to tell me these things now, we can do it another time?”

“Jeno, have you ever heard the saying that the present is the key to the future?” The boy shakes his head no, but a flare of remembrance burns lowly in his eyes—both he and Donghyuck don’t address it. Hyuck should not have expected Jeno to know, he himself only learned it per the teachings of the palace. “Well—it doesn’t matter, really. Basically, it means that to get to the glorious future you have to focus on improving your own current situation. With a project with as much planning as this will take, it’s better to start now rather than later.”

Jeno nods slowly, first in acceptance then in understanding. “Well where do we start?” He fiddles with his fingers. “How do I become.. a person that I never was?” There’s a certain quality of uncertainty in Jeno’s voice that makes even Donghyuck himself waver. Sounding that doubtful regarding one’s self would have no place in an intricate scheme to impersonate a crowned prince. Donghyuck takes the responsibility to cut the wariness at the bud before it spoiled Jeno’s confidence.

Luckily for Jeno, Donghyuck knew exactly where to start. He pushes his own lithe body as far away from the wooden table as possible. He shuffled over to Jeno to position himself directly behind the boy’s chair. Weary and full of confusion, Jeno’s turns towards Donghyuck, just about ready to question him.

“No questions just yet, Jeno,” dismisses Donghyuck. His chest presses into the chair’s pointed corner as he leans forward, covering Jeno’s eyes in a mildly gentle manner to avoid frightening him. Donghyuck’s voice drops an octave, low enough to send shivers ricketing down Jeno’s spine. “Now, I want you to close your eyes, alright? Tell me when you have.” Jeno hums when he does so, and Donghyuck can vaguely feel the faint vibration against the palm of his hand. “I’m going to set a scene for you, so pay attention.”

“Alright..”

With a precarious inhale, Donghyuck’s lips purse and out flows the consequential tale. He chooses the most lucid and resplendent words to weave together a grand story that, hopefully, would stay loyally ingrained in the fragments of Jeno’s mind. “It was April 23rd, a spring day that should have had a crisp blue sky ripe enough to spend the day lounging outdoors. However on this particular day, a Sunday, the clouds fabricated themselves to compose a cloth of off white. It was raining hard, which never happened much in Incheon, even though it was a city by the sea. That day’s rainfall was enough of a miracle, but it was overshadowed by a birth. The birth of Incheon’s final prince and successor to the throne, Lee Jeno.”

Even after all that, Donghyuck is completely shell shocked to find that Jeno has the complete audacity to giggle at him. After the vivid imagery Donghyuck painted with his words, Jeno found it amusing and not insightful! He pouts. “What is so funny that you are laughing? I did not realize I was here to entertain you.”

Jeno’s lithe hands reach up to carefully move Donghyuck’s from blocking his direct source of vision. Jeno’s hands are ridiculously soft, and even the simple act of a quick brush causes Donghyuck’s palms to set ablaze. That, combined with the hopeful look Jeno was giving him from his seated position, was enough to make Hyuck huff indignantly and step back.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Donghyuck! It’s just—from what I’ve seen of you so far you’re not at all a terribly serious person, and you describing the weather to me sounded awfully serious!” Jeno clarifies, before adding. “And beautifully descriptive, by the way.”

“I thought you knowing extremely intricate details about Jeno might just help you sound more like a real contender. When Jeno was young his parents would recount the story of his birth at major functions. Since I was behind the prince at almost all times, I’d obviously heard it enough to memorize it.”

“There was not much rainfall in Incheon at that point either, then?”

Donghyuck, curious by Jeno’s choice of words, inquires further. “‘ _At that point_ ’? Jeno, are you from Incheon?”

Jeno’s hands awkwardly shift at his sides and he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “Well, not exactly? I told you that I’ve lived at an orphanage ever since I was found on the side of the road, yes? I was found in Incheon and taken to an orphanage on the outskirts. I’m not sure if I was from Incheon before, but it’s been home to me for the last few years..” His sentence trails off, his eyes hone in on a pattern etched into the wood walls that kept the apartment standing. “It doesn’t rain much there now either. But, the nurses would always tell me that when it actually did rain, it was the tears of the crowned family falling upon the land.” He chuckles. “I guess that’s something the crowned prince and I have in common; we both aren’t particularly acquainted with the rain.”

“I guess so..”

It is quiet for a few seconds, until a low rumble echoed through the silence. Embarrassingly, Jeno’s eyes shift away from Donghyuck—who he’d been staring at while the other glanced curiously out the window—and covered his stomach sorely. Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Are you hungry, Jeno?” Despite Mark’s diplomatic actions by offering his roommate’s bed, Donghyuck realizes they had not offered Jeno even a morsel of food. It was solely glass after glass after glass of water, but that would not sustain a growing boy such as Jeno at all. And Jeno, bless his heart, did not even bother to ask.

“Maybe?”

“When was the last time you ate?” Donghyuck asks the question but is stunned when a meager ‘two days ago’ slips past Jeno’s lips. He feels a prickle of disappointment and frowns at the thought of the boy refraining from eating. “Why didn’t you mention that? You’re going to get sick if you don’t eat! It’s already cold, we can’t give you more reasons to get sick. Now, come on!”

Jeno allows his willowy body to be uprooted from his seat by Donghyuck’s hands. Jeno sways a bit, feeling a wave of dizziness by how quickly he’d been lifted to his feet. With his free hand he steadies himself, not noticing that Donghyuck has already let go of his hand to fetch both of their jackets. Jeno pouts subconsciously at the loss of heat that Donghyuck’s hands provided, and he rubs his palms sorely against each other to make up for it. Donghyuck, a fire taken over him, slings his own jacket over Jeno’s shoulder. Confused, Jeno slides the jacket on properly. “Donghyuck, this isn’t my jacket?”

Donghyuck puts Jeno’s jacket over his smaller frame, preoccupying himself with the buttons of the unfamiliar piece of clothing. “I know that. But you haven’t eaten and it’s cold. My jacket is warmer and less.. beaten up,” Offense flashed in Jeno’s eyes, and Donghyuck apologizes quickly. “I don’t mean it like that, don’t take it like that. You can’t get sick, Jeno, you’re a pawn in this game that we have to play. Better that I catch a cold than you do. Worst case scenario, I get severely ill but, hey, at least you have something worth living for!”

Jeno finds himself gaping at the joyless words that popped out from the boy’s lips, but does not comment further. Donghyuck himself was used to speaking of his future in such an unfavorable manner. One becomes accustomed to such desolate thoughts when their very life was stitched together by a loose thread; one pull and it all would unravel miserably.

* * *

“Where are we going?”

“You ask that _now_?”

The two boys ambled down the streets of Seoul, traveling under the faint street lights that lit their path. It was not incredibly early in the morning yet the sky was painted a particularly dismal hue of grey. It was the spitting image of a bleak midwinter’s sky, the type of day where the sun was too afraid to show its light—or, the type of day that Donghyuck despised. Mark was the one who usually offered to venture out into the nippy weather, which left Donghyuck inside for a large portion of the winter.

Truthfully, he would not be exiting the house if it was not for the lack of food to feed Jeno with in the apartment. He did not have much money on him, nor did he have a solid plan to purchase food. It is difficult when half of the artisans in the vicinity of Seoul had a bounty on Donghyuck’s pretty little head.

They turn into a crowded alley only noticeable by the flickering street lights overhead. Despite his poor eyesight, Jeno is able to make out the characters that form bakery just before Donghyuck pulls him to the side. “Only speak when spoken to, alright? I’m going to have to use your very existence as a ramp into getting us something to eat,” Donghyuck opens the door, nudging Jeno to step inside. “Stand there and be the handsome boy you are.”

Jeno stumbles inside the bakery, immediately noticing the homey aura that radiates throughout the room. The room was not extremely bright in favor for a more muted brown light, while the spiced scent of cinnamon spreads to every nook and cranny. Simply inhaling the aroma of the bakery causes Jeno’s stomach to rumble as a desperate cry for help, and he sighs.

Behind him, Donghyuck enters with the splendor of a king. His arms were raised high above his head as if he were awaiting defeating applause, or some grand reaction of the sort. Jeno seems almost embarrassed at the sight, but he tries to not relay it to Donghyuck too much—the boy was not paying much attention to him, anyway. “I bet you’ve missed me, haven’t you, Jisung?”

Jisung, who Jeno assumes is the boy behind the counter, frowns. “—You’re on the blacklist, Donghyuck. You know you’re not supposed to be here and..” His next few words are mousy, and his eyes darted around the room as if the very action of speaking to Donghyuck could entrap him. “I’m not really supposed to sell to you.”

“Well, you aren’t going to!” Donghyuck announces, holding his hand out for Jeno to take. The boy’s eyes hesitantly flicker between Donghyuck’s outstretched hand and his face, before slipping his hand into the other’s. He reels him closer, tugging Jeno over to the counter. Jisung stares at the two in a state of confusion, but he admittedly seems intrigued by Jeno. “You’re going to sell to him. Jisung, meet Jeno. Jeno, meet Jisung.” The two exchange an awkward set of greetings, but Donghyuck continues on. “Jeno is a recently turned-of-age boy who has no home. Mark and I, from the goodness of our hearts, have taken him in. I believe your shop offers assistance in situations like this, now please give him a few loaves.”

“You and Mark are not in any situation to be taking anyone in. It’s the helpless being lead by the clueless, that just does not make sense.” Jisung tsks. His words are hypocritical to his actions, however, as he promptly fills a few loaves into a worn down brown paper bag before shoving it in Donghyuck’s direction. “Now get out of here before you get me in trouble. It was hard to get this job, I really can’t lose it.” When the boys idle too long as they scuttle towards the door, Jisung gets antsy. “Go!”

The two exit the bakery with hurried thanks, their feet taking them farther and farther away from the epicenter of the hustle and bustle. Jeno, unfamiliar with the vicinity he currently was in, follows Donghyuck without even a half idea of where the two were really going. He doesn’t bother asking, either—he trusts Donghyuck, for some reason.

He only stops running when Donghyuck does. The boy abruptly sits on the stoop of a building, cradling the paper bag in his lap as if it were stuffed with the most precious items in the world. And maybe it was; food was hard to come by in Donghyuck’s situation, even a singular loaf of bread saved him from entering starvation. Jeno follows his lead, taking a cautious seat beside Donghyuck. “Isn’t this someone’s house? Should we even be sitting here?”

“I may be a thief but I am not a delinquent, Jeno. This is an abandoned building that used to be full of apartments for the unemployed until the government seized it,” There is a certain cold edge to Donghyuck’s voice, a tone that told a story of resentment all on its own. “Mark and I once lived here, but when we got kicked out it was really hard. We lived on the streets for a while, begging for spare change on Seoul’s cold streets. We were lucky to find where we live now. Our parents must’ve looked out for us.” The latter half of the sentence is said in a half whisper, and Jeno trusts his better judgement to not address it.

“Don’t worry, Donghyuck. We’re going to pull this off, and—and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you and Mark never have to live in poverty again.”

“Jeno, how can you say that? You barely know Mark and I, why do you think you’re entitled to have to do anything for us?” Donghyuck rips into Jeno as harshly as he numb fingers rip into the bread. Without thinking, Hyuck passes the larger piece of bread in his hand to Jeno, already biting into the smaller portion. Jeno doesn’t say anything.

“You took a chance on me when nobody else would. Before I saw your advertisement, I too had been on the streets. At 18 the orphanage could not really keep me any more, so they sent me off with the few belongings I had, a one-way ticket to Seoul, and some pocket change. I had nowhere to go, no home, no family—I had nothing, nobody would give a job to an impoverished orphan. But you took me in, let me sleep in your bed, drink the little water you had.. Even if it was only for a day, it’s more than I’ve ever been given.” And Jeno means it when he says he’ll fight to ensure that Mark and Donghyuck never have to lay their bodies on the cruel streets again.

Jeno realizes only after speaking that had gone off on a tangent, and his cheeks instinctively flush a hue similar to that of a cherry. He’s embarrassed, and the fact that Donghyuck is staring at him with an indescribable look in his wide, sparkling eyes does not aid the pounding of Jeno’s heart—perhaps in more ways than one. “You’re.. really cute when you blush.” It comes out in a blur, almost as if Donghyuck’s mind had been teetering on whether or not to actually let the words slip out. The action might’ve been against his better judgement, because when Jeno fails to say anything immediately after Donghyuck is sputtering an apology. “I-I didn’t mean that, forgive me, Jeno.”

“It’s fine..” Jeno had not been bothered by the compliment at all. On the contrary, the praise only causes him to blush a bit more, involuntarily of course, and hide his face in the scarf Donghyuck had wrapped around his neck earlier. He wonders why the boy is so caught up on saying sorry.

“It’s just—you just speak so much like him,” Donghyuck marvels. “Your tone, your pronunciation, the way you can tell that you’re so passionate about something just by your words.. As long as you can remember all the information we tell you, I think we can make this work.”

“Really?” Jeno is hopeful, Donghyuck’s words inflate him with a feeling he has never quite experienced prior.

“Really.” And Donghyuck is not lying when he says it. 

* * *

“Let’s try this again, let’s see your walk! Remember, head up, regal bearing!” 

Jeno, with his shoulders set back and his posture as straight as one possibly could force, takes tentative steps forward at Mark’s count. According to Mark and Donghyuck, having a magnificent walk is one step towards being fit for royalty. With their logic, Mark had suggested to spend the afternoon solely on improving Jeno’s stride to appear more polished. 

However, the amount of times Jeno’s been corrected by Mark and Donghyuck in the last hour was astonishing—do not slouch, do not maintain too quick of a pace, do not drop the head at all. Really, Jeno did not mean to make such tiny mistakes, he was trying his absolute best to retain all the knowledge the two were bestowing upon him. He succeeded in some aspects, though, his sessions were not all riddled with missteps. He found himself to be quite good at balancing a book on his head—Donghyuck teases him, asking Jeno how he could be so successful in walking with a book on his head, but fail as soon as the item was taken. 

When Mark begins to count again, even if Jeno felt uncertain, he tries to not stumble through the walk. Mark does not bother to immediately correct him, and with no jibes being thrown at him by Donghyuck, Jeno wonders if his efforts were not in vain. Did he appear more regal this time?

“Do not walk, but try to float.” suggests Mark, and Jeno promptly creates an image in his mind of a lily-pad floating carelessly on a serene pond. He is not sure why that particular image came to mind, but Jeno attempts to apply the thoughts to his walk. Perhaps thinking of a boat careening down a placid sea would work equally as well. This seemingly only distracts Jeno more, but he himself does not realize it. 

“I feel a bit foolish,” admits Jeno, peeking towards Mark and Donghyuck but turning away as soon as he spots the two conspicuously whispering. He swallows hard. “Am I floating?” 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck breathes, and Jeno feels an air of victory settle all around him. However, Jeno had not expected such easy praise. Upon Donghyuck finishing his sentence, a deflating feeling blooms in Jeno’s stomach. “Like a sinking boat.”

Jeno huffs, dropping into the nearest chair. Initially, Donghyuck had been apprehensive towards him, and that much was obvious. Jeno tried his best to understand, chalking it all down to the fact that Donghyuck was simply unfamiliar with him. He could not have expected this boy, who’d been through a life’s share of hardships, to warm to him instantaneously. Additionally, Jeno was a boy impersonating someone close to Donghyuck’s heart, he figures it is only fair to not be too hard on him. 

But it's been almost a week or so since Jeno began staying with the two, and Donghyuck still acted so hostile towards him sometimes. Donghyuck never has any constructive criticism for him, all that passed his lips were passive aggressive jabs that irritated Jeno more than hurt him. 

Mark was a silver lining in it all, though. He often rebuked Donghyuck if the boy took it a bit too far, and tried his best to assure Jeno that he was doing a fine job. Mark would tell him that what Jeno was trying to accomplish was hard, morphing himself into a person that he never was, and that Donghyuck should offer him more leniency. Sometimes though, he hears Mark and Donghyuck disagreeing when they flicker the lights off and assume a tucked in Jeno is sleeping. Mark pleads with Donghyuck to be kinder, to remember that Jeno is no better in a situation than they. Donghyuck would say that one of them has to be tough to ensure perfection, and that it is not his fault that Mark’s being lax. 

Not even for himself, he wants to prove _to Donghyuck_ that he could be the real Jeno. He does not want to be a cookie cutter phony, he wants to be as close to the real thing than anyone could get. 

Donghyuck was just making this _so hard._

“Let’s try bowing instead, hm? We can give the walking a rest.” Mark offers with a weary sigh. Jeno cannot tell if that is due to his own incompetency to walk straight, to Donghyuck’s snarky comments, or a mix of both. 

“Mark, how can he bow if he can barely walk unless he has a book on top of his head?” Donghyuck asks it as a serious question. 

Jeno, by this point, has reached the apex of frustration. He stomps his foot like a toddler, resting his arms just upon his hips. He purses his lips and spits words that come to mind. “Then how about you actually stand up and show me how it’s done? You talk yet you’ve never bothered once to come show me how to walk or how to bow.”

“I will not bow _to anyone,_ ” says Donghyuck through gritted teeth. “Last time I pushed my pride back to respect someone enough to bow to them, it was because they _earned_ it.” 

“Then _let me_ earn it!” It’s a cry, a desperate plea from Jeno’s behalf. His voice echoes throughout the silent room, his plead sending chills down Mark’s spine. “Aren’t I your only key to a better life? We are all in the same boat and trying to stay afloat. If we sink, it’ll be _your fault_ because Mark and I are really trying here. Help me help you, Donghyuck. _Please.”_

Donghyuck is silent, and Jeno half believes his words were spoken in vain. There is a completely blank stare on Donghyuck’s face, and Jeno wonders if his mind was as vacant as he appeared right now. Jeno is about to scoff, turning away as he is ready to throw in the towel and call it a day. 

Until Jeno hears the scuffling and rearrangement of limbs from behind him. He swirls around, bewildered to find Donghyuck mid-bow. His head is hung, his cheeks pinched an embarrassing hue of red. He mumbled words inaudible to Mark but clear as day to Jeno. “Bowing is a sign of complete and total respect.”

Jeno gasps, but does not at all hesitate to seize the opportunity. He hurries to emulate Donghyuck, but realizes he had not _quite_ seen the movements leading up to the bow. He does what his mind tells him makes sense, half expecting to be corrected. 

“That’s.. perfect form.” Mark comments in amazement, analyzing Jeno carefully. The eldest is in disbelief at how Jeno’s posture and actions post and pre bow were exactly as he had been taught from an early age. It did not quite add up, especially when considering Jeno’s back had been turned to Donghyuck as he bowed. “Who taught you that? I didn’t teach you that.” 

Jeno glances to Donghyuck, who seemed as perplexed as Mark. The two were staring down at him, puzzled at how this came to be. No common citizen would simply know how to bow just as a royal would, yet Jeno executed all the movements with no instruction nor correction? ( _Both Mark and Donghyuck were thinking the same yet stayed quiet_ ). “It just came to me? Naturally.. I _think_.”

“Let’s not waste this amazing progression!" shouts Mark, taking seize of Jeno's hand. He pulls the actor to his feet, guiding him to the nearest chair and forcing him to take a seat. Mark's pace is frenzied, and he dashes to push the cracked chalk board over to where both Jeno and Donghyuck sat. “Speed quiz, alright, Jeno? Give me the first answer that comes to your mind!” 

Jeno nods, excited at the amount of faith the two must have in him at this moment. 

“What’s your name, when’s your birthday, and where are you from?” 

“Crowned Prince Lee Jeno, my birthday is April 23rd, and I was born and I resided in Incheon!” 

Mark points to him with a big grin, not having to verbally tell Jeno he was right for the boy to know.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“One older sister!” 

“Your cousin and family adviser was..?” 

“Prince Kim Dongyoung from Gyeonggi!”

Mark arches an eyebrow, knowing there is more to the answer. He awaits Jeno's reply to see if the boy would figure out where he needed to add. 

Jeno jerks involuntarily, sitting up in his seat as he gives Mark exactly what he wanted to hear. “ _Oh_ —I never had an older brother, so he often acted as the brother in my life. I rarely called him Dongyoung, but Doyoung. He insisted on it.” 

“Last question! Who was your right hand man?”

Jeno spares a look at Donghyuck beside him before reciting the answer to Mark with no error, with the ease as if he'd read it off a piece of paper. Though he does not really remember going over this question with Mark, the answer comes too clearly to his mind that he figures he must have just forgotten it being mentioned. How else would he know the answer, anyway? “Lee Donghyuck, who’d been brought to the palace with his younger siblings and family. Oh, and his family was from Jeju, where there were rarely days where it didn't rain!”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and he immediately looks to Mark to see if he’d noticed the same thing he had. Mark either did not catch it or was a master at masking his reaction to such a crucial discovery. As Jeno passed the speed test with no issues, Mark was too preoccupied with praising Jeno for his perfect answers. As they prance around the room, Mark continuously showers the boy with compliments, telling him his memory was just as flawless as the crowned prince’s had been. However, goosebumps raise on Donghyuck's skin at this possible realization, and all he can do is stare.

Who really is this boy, with his long limbs and kind smile?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there’s going to be a lot of times like this: 
> 
> jeno: [does or know something only real jeno could]  
> donghyuck: ......hmm... maybe?  
> mark: :O 
> 
> it’ll be a while until we know the truth! I hope you’re all in for jeno’s self realization!!!! <3333

**Author's Note:**

> If you reached this far: comments, kudos, even light criticisms are accepted and ENCOURAGED! Comments and kudos increase my chapter updating speed. If you really liked it, let me know on Twitter @ncthusiasts (that would make me SUPER happy) Until next time! ｖ(⌒ｏ⌒)ｖ


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